Thursday, December 24, 2009

Well look at that! The end of Further Advents 2009! Okay so I missed a few days here and there along the way.. SUE ELLEN ME.

All that remains is to wish you all a very, very Merry Christmas. I honestly hope you have a brilliant one, you lovely people.*

I'll probably muster up some kind of 'this was 2009' type post in the course of the next week. But for now, I wanted to shamelessly nick stuff from that other place - whisper it! - Twitter, for my final Further Advents post. It'll probably have been replaced by something else by this time next year, and I don't trust twitter with some of my favourites, you see, so they need to be recorded for posterity somewhere.

I realise this is bit like reading them out into a cassette recorder.

I'M SUCH A HOARDER!!

So, here are some of the best Tweets I've seen in the last twelve months. I would link to the author's Twitter account. Only I can't be arsed, you see. And no I haven't put the date and time of each tweet, but they are in reverse order, from now back to January.

It's all very fly-on-the-slice-of-life here today, you see.

Here we go now, 2009 - A YEAR IN TWEETS:

@sueperkins Pamela Anderson and Vivienne Westwood; the yin and yang of skin tone...

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

I'll be stuffing myself silly, until I have sprouts coming out of my ears. Because it's traditional.**

Marvellous!

* I know. The DM. Sozza.

** This sounds pretty selfish since there are people starving in the world, I know. But it continues in the vein of my long-running campaign that food is once of the last pleasures humanity has. Enjoy it while you can.

Monday, December 14, 2009

While I was perusing the weekend papers - pain au chocolat in hand, sophisticated Radio 4 chit-chat on the background, a mere hint of Monster Munch flavouring the air - I saw this very interesting article. It explores the idea that toys and stuff for little girls has become overwrought with sugar, spice and all that's nice. Well, pink mainly. I can see their point. There's nothing wrong with little girls liking girly stuff, if that's their desire, but not everything has to be lurid pink, right?

Anyway, the point was the piece was illustrated by one of the most awesome poster adverts I have ever seen. T'is found here.

I'll say it again. Lego was one of my best toys EVER. My youngest nephew is just getting into it, and I'm proud to say that some of his huge pile comes from my stuff and my sister's. Which means some of it is over thirty five years old. How's that for longevity!?

This Christmas I shall mostly be looking forward to making some Lego sets becauseofcoursehecan'tdoitsowhydoesn;tUncleBozjusthelpyououttherehmm?

Friday, December 11, 2009

This has been something of a busy week at work, with lots of traipsing to and from meetings across town. Quite satisfying to get a lot done though. But it does feel like I've lost touch a bit with everything else - and I certainly haven't had any time to sit and just *be still*.

Also, it being the season, my liver is working at full capacity. She cannae take much more cap'n. And the alcohol is playing havoc with my emotional state. Last night I almost burst into tears twice at the theatre.

And now for something completely irrelevant; a selection of random pictures from my iPhone:

Wednesday, December 09, 2009

All these things and yet more. I won't say exactly where.* But during Uni, and a couple of years after Uni I worked in retail, which included the Christmas period.

I am in no way getting snobby. Everyone does jobs like this, at any stage of life, that may not exactly their dream career, and those who haven't should do. It's like a kind of national service, where you're forced to experience the business end of the Great British Public for a few years to really SEE what we're like. Anita Roddick once said "show me someone with a deep loathing for all humanity, and I'll show you someone who works in retail" and she really wasn't just whistling dixie.

I have some awesome memories of those jobs. Mostly about the other people and the drinking because quite often we were all bored to tears, but it taught me stuff I still use in day-to-day life and my work today. So ner. Yes, I know I sound like I'm about to say "what you need is a bloody good war". But sometimes that's a little what it felt like.

Especially at Christmas.

So for today's advent, let's all take a few moments and spare a thought for the good people of retail who are generally Making Our Christmas Happen For Us. The bar people, the supermarket bods and all the people we hand cash to in return for some things we give to other people.

Because it's not a great time of year for them. Working right up to Christmas Eve setting up stuff for the sales after the shop closes, and being back in on Boxing Day doesn't leave much time for stuff with family or friends.** The hours are long, the pay is usually fairly rubbish and sometimes it can be another form of care in the community for the regular customers.

Ages I shoved on here my "light-hearted" guide to Christmas shopping, but please spare a thought for the person who's helping you shop. Not only are there millions of us, we're quite grumpy and demanding. And we hate queues. And we'll get in a right tizz if that store doesn't happen to have the plates in the right colour, or this dress in the right size. trust me on this. I had people spit at me.***

What's more, by this time of year they are already note perfect on the Christmas CD that's been sent by Head Office that year. And never, ever, want to hear any of it again. It's never the the good Christmas music, it's always, always some disco version of Little Donkey that was released in 1973.

So, take a moment and say a nice thanks to the next person that helps you out with something for Christmas. G'waan.****

* Happy Holidays! Would you like a gift receipt or gift box with that turtle neck jumper?

** I have never understood this country's obsession with getting up early and going shopping the day after Christmas. Are we, like, mad? There's telly on. And more food. And fami.. ohIseeeee.

*** And old ladies throw handbags at you before flashing you.

**** Even you smug types that have "finished" all your Christmas shopping. You still have food shopping or something to do.

Tuesday, December 08, 2009

* Mind you, let's not rule anything out once we open the festive sherry, what?

** What do you mean, "I'm just raiding my Twitter favourites for stuff to bung up on the internets?" This is carefully selected, hand-crafted blog material from the finest purveyors, I shall have you know. Quality posts, honestly priced.***

*** IE, free.****

**** I have reached the point where the footnotes are bigger than the post. I think I may be in web-nirvana.

Friday, December 04, 2009

You know how some Decembers you really feel Christmas, and others you don't?

This year I am really feeling Christmas. By the time the actual thing comes around I could well be a gibbering, shaking wreck of tinsel, wrapping paper and fairy lights.* I'm very much in danger of boring people a bit, I think.

Wednesday, December 02, 2009

1. Kylie Auldist (who I have my flatmate to thank for). Check out Ship in a Bottle on her myspace page. Or if you're fancy you can spotify her*.

2. It turns out I'm not the 30x32 trouser size I thought I was (or was certain I was a decade ago). I's a 32x30! I'm actually shrinking and expanding! This may explain the technical problems I have been having when buying jeans.

I know. Do try and carry on as normal after the shock.

Yes I know they are neither of them festive. What do you want to me to do? Say it with tinsel!? "TINSEL".

Tuesday, December 01, 2009

I'm not kidding. My dad took me to visit my Gran this weekend. Mother phoned me a few days before hand to ask if it was alright if he dropped off one or two books of mine that were still at my parents place.

Of course not, I said.

Foolish, foolish error.

Turns out that "a few books" equates to six boxes, seven bags and my parents rubbing their hands with glee. I am literally surrounded by tat and toot. My bed is marooned in a sea of cardboard.

I have NO idea where I'm going to put this stuff. Books, children's books, old toys, school uniforms, exercise books, a disco ball, LPs... it goes on. Oxfam and Save The Children on Clapham High Street are going to get a sizeable chunk, I reckon. It's time to say goodbye to a few things.

The posters are worth a special mention. Some awesome Tim Hunkin ones I wouldn't mind seeing framed, but a whole LOT of 90's music posters. Mostly free ones that came with Select. Ash, Sleeper, Boo Radleys, Oasis... am I too old to put

Don't blame the parents though. They live in a tiny wee place, and my stuff cluttering up their space is most unfair. It's going to be interesting sorting out the stuff here where I live, rather than under their roof. Some tough decisions will be made.

I'm two boxes in and already have genuine fear. Turns out keeping everything I've ever been given and everything anyone ever sent me may not have been such a tip-top idea. People, I'm a hoarder...

**SECOND UPDATE**

I thought I'd unpack all the books, to see if I can group them together and just sort of see where I am. Unfortunately it turns out there where I am is surrounded by piles of books and having a small nervous breakdown.

Friday, November 20, 2009

Over recent days several important family phone calls have happened that often take place at this time of year.

Mum phoned me and just HAPPENED to mention there is a Simon Callow thing that looks quite good.

A day later I phoned mum to ask IF she was coming down to London around her birthday in December, could she CONFIRM the date.

Mum phoned back to CONFIRM what date she would be coming up to town around her birthday. I am pleased. Mother also happens to mention that I should call my sister to find out what she wants for Christmas.

Dad phones to tell me about some funny pictures he has caught while on a trip to France (well done, dad):

I phone my sister to find out what she wants for Christmas. She has no idea what she wants for Christmas, but informs me that she has already bought Mum's birthday present and one of MY Christmas presents. I panic slightly. Sister also goes on to outline what The Wonderful Nephews want for Christmas.

I call my bank manager.

Mother calls to ask why I haven't told her what I want for Christmas. I say I will think about this.

Some time later I call sister back to find out what she is buying Mum for birthday and Christmas. Sister demands to know what I would like for Christmas. I say (somewhat triumphantly) that I actually have a LIST. Sister is pleased but on top deck of bus with a five year old who is apparently trying to 'encourage' OAPs to join in his game with a plastic dinosaur, so cannot write a number of highly detailed and specific items down. OAPs appear frightened.

I am required to email my Christmas wishes to the females I share my genes with. In practical terms, this means emailing it to the members of the family who DO have email addresses; eldest nephew and father.

IN SUMMARY: This could all go horribly wrong and I will get socks again (although, if mother is involved, they are likely to be fairly awesome socks).

Thursday, November 05, 2009

Having enormous fun with this online tilt shift thing. Which as far as I can make out is just that trendy way to make pictures look as if they are of very small things that seems very 'in vogue' on adverts and things at the moment.

I took this picture on the flight back into London from India, and used the online thingy to shuszz it up:

MODEL LONDON! Amazing.

If you're a proper computer bod, unlike luddite me who just bashes keys until the right things happen or bits fall off*, then there is a Photoshop Tutorial here.

* Not really I love my mac laptop. LOVE. But only use approx 0.1% of its magnificent power and capabilities.

Monday, October 26, 2009

Surprisngly relaxing weekend at my parental home, despite the usual rivers of red wine (which is most certainly not some Nick Griffin-esque speech, I assure you).

I think the clocks going back has done wonders for me. After weeks of being tired and running out of rope, I seem tuned to the right universe. Ahhh! I was temporally challenged, clearly.

But. And anyway.

The delightful Great She Elephant (who sounds nothing like an elephant. I know this for I have spoken to her on the phone and she sounds.. well. All I'm saying is that Charlotte Green is in for a run for her money and certain gentleman callers might be persuaded to part with a lot of money.) has just completed a Meme which I am stealing from her blog.

Have you had sex in the past 24 hours? Not consciously.Are you gay? Buh-LEEVE it, SISTAH! Um. Which actually means yes, I am indeed.Do you have hairy legs?Yes. I am told this is fairly normal. But it doesn't mean I'm about to whip out the shorts at the smallest ray of sunshine.Do you smoke anything? No. And I saw Whitney on X Factor recently.Do you like monkeys? Never understood what's so great about them above any other animal, really. Cats is my bag.How many fillings do you have? Two. I had others. They fell out. They or the tooth.Would you rather swim in the ocean or a lake? Ocean. I find it harder to trust still water. Have you ever licked one of those square batteries? Yes. Peer pressure at uni because they found out I hadn't as a child. Isn't the British educational system a marvel?? Still. That's a red brick for you..Have you ever read the Bible? No. Chewed some it? Yes.Did you ever go to Sunday School? No chance. Resoundingly atheist parents, you see. Do you wear a lot of black? No but I'm considering more. Have too many light threads for winter. Doesn't go that well with my brown-ish-ginger-hinted hair though..Did you ever bring a weapon to school? I had nothing to declare but y genius. Which may have explained the forthright actions of the school bullies.Have you ever hugged a tree? Hell yeah. And not regularly enough for my liking. Trees are ACE.Do you know what a sphincter actually is? Intimately, and with all the surprises that such a position can throw up. (Sorry Gran).Describe your hair? See above. It does its job. Quite thick. If I could be arsed to go to the cutting place more often it might be better, but it's mine so huzzah!Are you a wildbeast? I cannot better GSE's answer: "No I'm a pedant - I think you mean wildebeest."Do you like to have fun? (eyeing meme up and down) What did you have in mind..?Do you like drama? Ohhhh yes. Have you ever taken a bong hit? A million years ago when all this was fields.Do you like mayonnaise? I can take it or leave it. Nice on chips, but really I'm a tommy k and brown sauce kind of dude and no that is no kind of euphemism.Are you afraid to die? I'm afraid of an unpleasant death involving cheesegraters, but far more frightened of others around me dying.Do you like playing in leaves? Only if they are properly attached and covering all parts that should be covered.Have you ever peed your pants as an adult? Oh my word yes.Have you ever thrown up on somebody as an adult? I don't think so. Just me.Are you an adult? How long do you have... I tell you what. Just have a flick through some of my previous posts and make your own mind up.Ever won a spelling bee? Yes. I called him Harold.Do you ever eat because you’re depressed? I don't think so. But if I'm happy I worry about it less. Food is one of the last great enjoyments we have. Relish it.Are you a television addict? Yes. But not about to go to any meetings about it.Do you think OJ was guilty? Do bears hit up Mass?Do you enjoy spending time with your mother? Yeah. She's a hoot.Have you ever had sex in a hot tub? I tried, vaguely. I was kindly turned down. I was okay with that because I would have worried about howe to clean it afterwards.On a swing? Not quite sure of the point of sex swings.Do you like Elvis? He's not on my list, if that's what you mean.Do you enjoy watching animals “do it” on the Discovery channel? No. Because they always seem faintly embarrassed by the film crew.Ever been hit on at a zoo? I don't think so. Have you ever had sex with a total stranger? Oh, my dear. None of us are strangers in this world. And not telling. you enjoy the calming effects of turkeys? Can't abide turkeys. Never a turkey round our way come Christmas. We do things with pheasants and venison instead. I say we. I mean my parents, who are more creative in the kitchen than I am.Does your mom think someone is hot? If she did I'm not sure she'd tell me. And that's fiiiine.Are you a sugar freak? Yes, but I'm also a savory freak. Ever been arrested? No.Ever commit a crime and get away with it? Once, I didn't wash my hands after peeing.Do you like orange juice? Yeah. Nice and fresh and cold. Cuts through a fuzzy head like nothing.What sign are you? That sort of special movement friend's make when someone asks an awkward question about someone's partner at a party. Eyebrow's down, cutting motion with the hand..Ever do the party boy dance in front of the elderly? I have no idea what you;re talking about. Which is probably right and proper as I'm past thirty now. I have my own kind of party boy dance. Where do you wish you were right now? NYC.Did you enjoy this? Well, it was fun, but it's not up there as one of the greats. You've certainly diverted some of my attention this morning, for which I am grateful for. But really I'd rather be finishing off The Camomile Lawn. Don't take it to heart though. Darling, you did your best...

Tuesday, October 06, 2009

Piddling around on the internets at work I found a list of some of the acronyms used by Marketing people to describe certain demographic audiences.

Some of them are absurdly specific: "ORCHID: One Recent Child Heavily In Debt. With a newborn in tow 'orchids' have limited capacity to spend or travel – an image in contrast to the exotic flower that describes them.

I suppose, somewhat depressingly into the GUPPIE category: "Gay Urban Professional. Like yuppies, but with longer-term high‑spend potential because of the guppie’s reduced likelihood of having children to look after. Alternatively, a “green yuppie”..

I don't want to be like Yuppies, thankyewverrmuch. I think of myself as Single Homosexual Inner-city Toiler, thanks. And I demanded to be marketed at as such.

Sunday, October 04, 2009

I borked my digital point and click camera during my birthday (unfortunate conjunction between camera, my bum and a hard surface), so I was using the old 35mm SLR my parents bought me for my 18th birthday. I'm pretty pleased with how some of them came out, because I hadn't used it properly in years.

I'm currently trying to work out how I can move to NYC without having to marry someone for a green card, as part of a five year plan. Any ideas?!

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Eventually some other more efficient and clever form of storing and sharing information will replace it, like the telephone replaced telegrams. And it will look like a quaint, old fashioned way to communicate. A mythological infrastructure rendered pointless by the living chips in our head that allow us to place thought directly into the minds of those we're connected to, from our eco-bubble body units that gave up the need for legs some time ago. Physical boundaries and distances having been replaced for centuries by a society that effectively exists as one in the common cloud of information and feeling and entertainment and learning. Like dust in a beam of sunlight, itself forgotten because we won't need light anymore. It'll be as irrelevant as horse-drawn carriages.

So the internet, a dusty, jammed, neglected collection of physical wires and satallites will slowly die, until the last forgotten computer light winks out, deep underground and alone. And the once flood of information and adverts and spam mail will fade out of existence as if it had never been.

When this happens, Lolcats will be the last thing that fades from the last cracked CRT screen..

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Well I've just spent six minutes and thirty seconds looking at Derren Brown's balls, and I'm none the wiser. But then there's the fun. I look forward to the Friday programme where he explains all - like some illusionist Johnny Ball. S'very clever.*

I'm off on my holibobs again. And I can't begin to explain how ready I am for them, not least because the last time I went away was the last time anything interesting happened on this blog. But darnit I shall try.

Why I am ready for parts foreign (by Boz, aged thirty and a bit)

1. Work has been 'a bit busy'.2. I have been punishing my poor body with late nights and booze.3. I have not had much time to generally kick back, relax, enjoy a slice of cake and bit of hush.

The results of this is my body springing it's usual physical equivalent of defcon three, ie a cold sore.

There is nothing nice to be said for a cold sore. They are not pretty. They are not fun. But it's sort of my own fault for running myself down a bit. I'm like one of those hypochondriac patients in Carry On Films. "Woe is meeeee! Matron!".

So very shortly, I'm abandoning these shores - with their gloomy news, befuddled seasons and wearisome deadlines - for New York City.

I've been before so have done most of the touristy stuff. Anyone got any tips for what next? MOMA is on my list..

* FULL DISCLAIMER: I slightly fancy Derren Brown. I know, right, a bit unusual, yeah? I'm sure it has all sorts of Freudian undertones. But there we are.

Thursday, September 03, 2009

There was talk about telly** and it struck me ("ow") that a lot of the TV that I really like and has really influenced me, was the stuff that I was not allowed to watch when I was younger.

I was a bit weedy and wet as a child (IN A GOOD WAY). So a lot of scary stuff was right out almost immediately (actually this might not just be telly - a Radio 4 Edgar Allan Poe adaptation had me literally shaking once). Anything I was shuffled away from has been the subject of endless interest as an adult. I think mum had a pretty good sense of the things that would cause sleepless nights (for me and therefore her) so would firmly switch over, off or the subject of our focus. But now anything sci-fi-ish and properly creepy I think is brillig.

And I have very deep memories of my sitting up in bed and hearing my parents and sister next door, laughing hysterically to Blackadder, which I had been summaraily dispatched to bed before the start of. I crept along the hall, knelt down beside the battered church pew*** and sat by the - firmly closed - living room door hearing them laugh their heads off.

"That must be a good thing," thought little I. Thus an obsession was born.

Of course, there was also always the lingering sense, the unspoken rule, that anything on ITV was somehow not quite the done thing. So clearly I can also blame/thank my parents for some of my strange class preoccupations, coupled to a socialist soul.

So I worry about my nephews, who can more or less watch what they like, will miss out on the life-shaping habits created by someone saying "No, not for you". Mind you, as the youngest one is still fairly preoccupied by DVDs of steam trains - and I mean ANY DVD of steam trains - I'm not sure there's too much of a problem there.

Anyway. I'm off to try and find a copy of this, on sound recommendation.

* Which was a much soberer affair than the last one, because we all had some proper grown-up things to do the next day. Like making presentations, meeting new people and trying to overthrow Slough.** One of my BEST types of talks.*** Don't go there. We had two. And screaming atheism.

Surely this is taking 'missing the point' to a whole new level. Are they trying to get this to be added to 2012 as a new Olympic sport? HELLO?

I try to buy organic food when I can afford to. I do not do this because I think an organic banana is going to be healthier for me* per se, I do this because I believe it is going to be less damaging for me.

And yes, I've already had Ben Goldacre waved under my nose. All this is well and good, and an interesting deconstruction of the argument. BUT. I still don't want artificially created pesticides, fertilizers or hormones cluttering up the stuff I eat. Because that stuff hangs around in the ecosystem, and no amount of argument will convince me that it isn't doing dodgy stuff to my body - which is already fighting pollution, chemicals in soaps and all the other Bad Stuff we fill the world with.

Also, organic food just tastes better.

I say this as someone who has just returned from his parents house, and enjoyed the plentiful organic goods of their allotment. MmmmMMMMM!

Anyway. That's today's rant. I'll try and frame a fw more posts in a more positive mental attitude..

ALSO. I love working in an office where someone approaches the workplace HiFi with a dark glint in their eye, murmuring the words "There can never be enough Fleetwood Mac in the world.."

* And I live in Clapham, where Yum-Mums actually are a growth industry. I'm knee-deep in Kath Kidston and how.

** Particularly as said banana has a good chance of ending up as, say, oo, I dunno, banana cake. [cackles]

My work one is a sort of blue/purple affair. Maybe I should head to Moo and make my own ones using my photo collection. Only that probably would not do a lot for my "professional" reputation. After all, your business card says a lot about you (and your brand).

This is why I could never start a business. I spend all my time on the business cards and stationery. I'd not get any work done.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

My brain is in a strange place. I'm having lots of very odd dreams. Last night seemed to involve a plot nicked from a Zoë Heller novel, where I had an affair with someone, then ended up looking after his bitter partner into old age, until she eventually had me run over by youffs on bicycles on a sodden English country lane.

To fill the time in between there was much angst and confrontation in various European cities.

Also a sub-plot about a missing jewel.

When does the cheque for the films rights arrive in the post, do we think..?

Sunday, July 12, 2009

As my tech-guru flatmate has pointed out, it really shows that it hasn't had squillions of earth pounds spent on it, but I am beginning to get quite attached to Channel 4 On Demand. (aka 4od.... "Fodd"? "Four-rod"??).

Monday, July 06, 2009

I'm sure these will spring up everywhere. But having failed the test questions for being a UK citizen because they asked inane things about road speeds (I don't drive), the number of young people in the UK (with proportionally minor differences between the four choices) and where I go to find out about local training opportunities (I'm a lazy bastard), I should like to suggest alternative and more accurate questions to identify the people who want to be here and have been paying attention*:

1. What is the correct way to prepare a cup of tea?- Milk in first- Boiling water in first- Moving widdershins around the cauldron while chanting hymns to the monkey gods.- In the advert break.

2. State the correct number of times EastEnders is broadcast each week:- Once- Twice- Three times a Barbara Windsor- Four and half thousand- Half

3. The Union Jack is only so-called when..- Raised.- Flown on a boat.- No one really cares about the answer to this you smug git.- Adorned on a BNP supporter.

4. If someone jostles you by accident in a popular drinking tavern, the correct response is..- "Oh I am so sorry my dear Sir/Madam/Transgendered person, I do apologise. the fault was all mine. Please allow me to replace your spoilt Babycham."- Heatbutting.- Crying (it's been a long night).- Pregnancy.({Participants note, the answers to this question depend on the part of the country you are located in, and your social class. If you do not know your social class, please consult the arbitrator's copy of The Daily Mail.)

5. London is the capital of...- The World.- The Universe.- The Empire.- Starbucks.- FM.

7. Sir Alan Sugar is..- Grand High Overlord of Great Britain- Getting a bit tired now, to be honest.- The Queen's husband.- A queen's husband.- Not as good as Margaret Mountford.

8. The British countryside is where..- We shoot things.- We shoot things to actually eat them.- We go to patronise inhabitants of conurbations of less than 50,000 people.- Messy.- We go caravan baiting.

12. TRUE or FALSE, a motorway service station is not what you're thinking?

13. You are entitled to a free subscription to Heat magazine...- When Kerry Katona says so- When Jordan says so- When Katie Price says so- When the women at Tescos says so- When the Man from Delmote says so- When the Gold Blend couple say so- On Tuesdays- Upon the birth of your sixteenth child

14. Finally, John Lewis is...- Where posh people go to buy haberdashery.- Related to Peter Jones.- A Blue Peter presenter.- A porn star.- A long-running drama on Radio 4.

Am I being snobby? I'm probably being snobby, aren't I. eeek!

More suggestions in the comments please!

UPDATE: I must belatedly thank Mr. Dennis for this post, as it was his Tweet that pointed me at the UK citizenship Warm Up Test. And his questions in the comments are far funnier than mine, dammit.

Wednesday, July 01, 2009

So. This morning, I cranked up my email and found the following email:

Hey Boz,

As a London-based blogger I thought you might enjoy the new animated video for my song “Goodbye London”.

It was animated onto photos of Camden, Hampstead Heath, Piccadilly Circus and other favourite parts of London.

The vid is here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o8nrDz1xNFE

I’d be delighted if you’d help me spread the word by posting it on your blog, Facebook, Twitter or myspace.

Sincerely,

Luke Jackson

Thrills! I don't care if some record label lackey picked up my blog from some long-forgotten blog directory I signed up to in an early fit of blogging enthusiasm. Nor do I care that the blogosphere is getting quiter by the day and they may be running out of London blogger to find.

HOW COULD A BLOGGER REFUSE.

It's such a well-written, open and dead straightforward email. I have to applaud it.

Luckily, the song and video turn out to be a bit nifty. And do actually have some of my fave bits of London in:

Thursday, June 18, 2009

BRIGHT YOUNG TELLY THING: "We've got this great idea, actually, for... what are they called? Children. Because the license fee says we have to put programmes on for them as well, or something, actually. Which is ridiculous because some of them can't even talk."

COMMISSIONING PERSON: "Hit me!" ***

BRIGHT YOUNG TELLY THING: "What it is, essentially, is a group of these "children", together, in, um, let's say an abandoned abatoir. And what they do, and this is the clever bit, is they make or do things that viewers have sent in as suggestions. Isn't that just chronically clever!? Jane thinks it's marvellous."

COMMISSIONING PERSON: "Big Brother with kidz. Viewers controlling their every action. I like it! It's got meaning. The location may need work. What's it called?"

BRIGHT YOUNG TELLY THING: " 'Why Don't You Just Switch Off Your Television Set And Go Out And Do Something Less Boring Instead?' "

COMMISSIONING PERSON: "Come again?"

BRIGHT YOUNG TELLY THING: "Janecameupwiththetitle."

COMMISSIONING PERSON: " ' Why Don't You...?' "

BRIGHT YOUNG TELLY THING: " '...Just Switch Off Your Television Set And Go Out And Do Something Less Boring Instead?'"

COMMISSIONING PERSON: "We'll abbreviate to "Stay In And Do". Love it. Here's £500,000. I want a pilot on my desk on Monday."

BRIGHT YOUNG THING" "Oh graaaaaaayt."

COMMISSIONING PERSON: "And no mistakes like last time. We had to promise British Airways a plug in The Apprentice to make them not go to the papers. Now where is my coffee and bagel??"

BRIGHT YOUNG TELLY THING: "Super. Yup. I'll call Jane now."

COMMISSIONING PERSON: "Also kids are expensive. Can we use dwarves?"

BRIGHT YOUNG TELLY THING: "I'll ask Jane.."

CUT TO:

JANE standing in a disused coal mine having kids throw things at her. She is crying.

CLOSE.

Incidentally, if anyone has read The Writer's Tale, it some interesting stuff on how Russell T. Davies slowly took over Why Don't You and subverted it into a ongoing drama. It sounded like a lot of fun.

I think this is part of my campaign to return an element of shoddiness to children's programming. It's all too Neat and Zappy and Polished these days. Bring back video clips going wrong on Number 73 and people harassing Five Star on Going Live. Right - can anyone find that clip of Yvette Fielding buggering up her pancake on Blue Peter?? BRING BACK GLITTER GLUE TO CBBC.

UPDATE: I'm beinginning to feel deja vu about this. Have I blogged about this before? Has someone else?? Have I fooled myself into thinking I came up with this idea when in fact it's the basis of a long-running show on BBC3?? PARANOIA.

* Also ooo look at that. TV Cream has gone to Beta. I turn my back for six months and eveything changes.**

** "And you gotta be ready".

*** I may have senior telly people confused with newspaper editors from the 1940s. The world of telly is not a world I move in, pass through or otherwise throw disco shapes in.

Tuesday, June 09, 2009

It is this morning. I am standing in small room I have paid to be in. I am alone, but confronted by a beast from my past that I am here to prod gently, to see if it stirs.I feel guilty because I "Haven't Been Practicing"..

...which is ridiculous, because I was last asked to do piano practice ooh a good fifteen years ago!

So it's like this. In darker moments of recent months, quite out of nowhere, I have felt a.. okay, I can find no better word.. yearning to play some notes on a piano. I know. It's all very middle-class, n'est pas?!

(And I mean piano. Not a keyboard, not an I-can't-believe-it's-an-electric-piano-piano*, not an organ (missus). A piano. It didn't need to be posh or fancy - a battered old upright would have done.)

Now. I only got as far as Grade Two, thanks to some rather futile years discovering I was basically awful at guitar. But I was curious to see if I could remember anything. And the desire kept recurring, despite not having touched one for a good decade.

So I arranged a marvellously cheap hour in a practice room and found out. It was so much fun! Turns out that with a bit of practice I could just about stumble through some simple stuff. And it was remarkable to feel that odd sensation of trying to coordinate two hands doing different things at the same time, like trying to twist your brain in two different directions, while emptying the washing machine. I haven't felt that in years.

I might try again. Stand back world.

I should, at this juncture, point out that I once made my piano teacher actually scream. Loudly. Really loudly. I dunno, something about not practicing some chords or scales or something...

Maybe I'll do less Bartok and more the theme form Ski Sunday this time. Maybe.

* Because I really can. And yes you can tell the difference. Listen to some of the stuff on the radio.

Monday, June 08, 2009

I feel I have quite a lot of untapped anger bubbling away just under the surface these days. Small things set me off the most vitriolic of diatribes; Blogger making me log-in twice. Ripping a hole in my socks by accident. People mentioning the BNP. Commuters suddenly stopping in the most awkward of places to consult a map, their socks, the sky etc. People I* pay money to talking to customers a if we were in the USA.

Gone are the days of wry bewilderment. If this is nearly being thirty... I LIKE IT..

Friday, June 05, 2009

I'm retreating into my childhood. Partly on the back of some reality TV programme I caught five minutes of where a Mum was inflicting her 70s childhood on her console-hybrid children*. Partly because I haven't been out much this week.

But it did make me think that everything is rather fast-paced now. Back in my mini-me days, the opening credits for 80 Days Around The World ran for a a minute and half, FFS. A minute and a half! That's longer than my attention span now!

Which led me to wondering where all the old cartoons went. And it turns out - the internet!

Witch Hazel and Marvin the Martian were my favourites, I think.*** (Although I couldn't find the one where WH tries to fly a vacuum cleaner - which made me howl with laughter).

So. Yeah. Thassall folks. Just me wallowing in my slower-paced childhood, but trying not to judge the modern world. After all, the the lucky buggers today have cool shizz like Yo Gabba Gabba!

* Look. I didn't like it either. But there were millions of children and they had a console *each* and it was quite interesting that the first thing they did when all their telly's were taken away was congregate together in the living room. All in moderation is what I'm aiming for, I guess. Which makes me a total hypocrite because I was that spoddy, game-playing, in-my-room teenager.**** And against all expectations I quite like me.*** No one say anything about identifying with the outsiders. Not. One. Little. Word.

Monday, June 01, 2009

[Beats the walls to test sound and strength, looks under posts for build-up of dust, kicks bit of skirting that has always been loose].

I would blame Twitter, only really I just haven't had much interesting to say.

BUT. The legendary, much anticipated, whispered of in hushed tones by the photocopier Office Relocation has finally happened.

I am typing this from a W1 post code, under the stern, 1960's futurist glance of the BT Tower. Or Post Office Tower is you're being all retro. I've always wanted to see if there is anything left of the revolving restaurant at the top. I suppose I never will now.*

Thanks to the God of All Finance, the move itself has been surprisingly easy and stress free. But I don't think he could control our excited running around being excited this lunchtime..

Anyway. Until I find interesting things to witter about that other people haven't done a better job on, adieu.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

So, I went to the Corbusier exhibition at the Barbican some while back.* I have to say I was not overly impressed; there was a lot of room given over to his sculpture which didn't really 'fill my plinth' and I left without really getting a sense of Who He Was. But this didn't matter as I got to pootle around the wonderful Barbican Centre and generally bask in sunshine, watching neurotic art students frolic among the bricks and fountains.

Anyway.

One bit of the exhibition really did grab me. In fact - it blew me away. About halfway through the top floor, they had a cabinet of various writings and books. And one, Towards A New Architecture** was open at a certain page, and the text plucked some hidden chord inside:

"...great white marble space filled with light. Beyond you can see a second similar space of the same dimensions, but in half light and raised on several steps (repetition of a minor key); on each side a still smaller space in subdued light; turning round, you have two very small spaces in shade. From full light to shade, a rhythm. Tiny doors and enormous bays. You are captured, you have lost the sense of common scale. You are enthralled by a sensorial rhythm (light and volume) and by an able use of scale and measure, into world of its own which tells you what it sets out to tell you. What emotion, what faith!"

I know it's abstract, but it really caught me. The language is simple but powerful.

* I'm not all about shooty-shooty games and kittens here. Oh dear me no.** 1927, Brewer, Warren & Putnam. Hey, I'm back at Uni with footnotes and such.

Right, seriously, just for second, what exactly is an image like this going to do to the average spotty fourteen year old's perception of what a normal body actually looks like!? What's that gonna do to your self-esteem, when this is beaming out from every magazine rack?

Unless there's some VERY SUSPECT PhotoShop action going on there (which I expect there is anyway), that bloke is not a normal shape. Right? Bodies don't really do that.

Shame on you, Men's Fitness. That has nothing to do with health or fitness. It is pure vanity.

I "go" to the gym every now and again. I guess it's a mix of wanting to be a bit healthier and, yes, some degree of concern about my physical appearance. But I think I have a more or less healthy attitude to life, food, Mars bars, and enough nouse to understand that big biceps and a stomach you can bounce rocks off, while yes all very nice 'n all, don't actually make you a better human being. Or a more fun one. And take a lot of time. Which could also be spent doing things like reading, enjoying Mars bars, watching telly, seeing friends, not taking steroids, enjoying another Mars bar, going to the cinema, having a walk, trying an Ice Cream Mars Bar, having a nice sit down, listening to music, volunteering work or other such productive activities.

FULL DISCLOSURE: I have had bugger-all to do with these adverts, either professionally or personally. So yah-boo-sucks. I just think they are pretty. But some Google Investigative Journalism find that this creative advertising agency appears to be responsible. Well done all, take ten points, clock off early etc.